


It's Only a Matter of Time

by HallowedLies



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: I'm Sorry, Sadness, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:44:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowedLies/pseuds/HallowedLies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alexander is first asked, “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” He’s hit with a wall of rage. ‘Because I AM’ he wants to scream at the world. My name is Alexander Hamilton and I. AM. RUNNING. OUT. OF TIME.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Only a Matter of Time

The hurricane ruined everything in more ways than one. The red cross medics did a full examination on every person effected by the hurricane, and when they scanned one Alexander Hamilton, something different came back.

“Cancer?” The boy asked the medic with a broken gasp, “No, it can’t be cancer I don’t…” 

The doctor looked at the young 17 year old with pity. “I’m afraid it is Cancer. Its growing rapidly in your lungs.”

Defeated, Alexander looked up at the doctor, “How long do I have left?”

The medic looked down at his sheet, “Its hard to say,” he replied, “the best guess is you’ll live to 30 without treatment. At worst, well, you may not live past twenty.”

Looking down at the boy, the doctor was surprised to see him gazing back fiercely. “I guess I just have to work harder then.” Alexander replied with a smile that seemed bitter on his face.

____________________________

When Alexander is first asked, “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” He’s hit with a wall of rage. ‘Because I AM’ he wants to scream at the world. My name is Alexander Hamilton and I. AM. RUNNING. OUT. OF TIME. 

He doesn’t scream.

Instead he smiles and laughs and makes plans to get a drink with his friends. They don’t know.

The seconds count down.

When Alexander is 19, he meets three of the best friends he will ever have. John Laurens, filled with the same spark as him, Lafayette, a man on a mission, and Hercules Mulligan, someone who looks at Alexander like he knows him. They’re all full of laughter and life and future, and Alexander hates them for it, just a little bit. 

Instead he smiles. He laughs. He lives, because he might not have much time left, damn it, but he’s going to make it count. 

When Aaron Burr tells Alexander to ‘talk less, smile more,’ Alexander wants to laugh and cry and say, no. Don’t talk less, smile more. Talk more. Smile more. Do everything more because soon there won’t be anymore left. 

Alexander works through Kings Collage. He writes and writes and doesn’t sleep and pretends he can’t see the worry of his friends. (“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” He jokes and they laugh because they don’t know they cant know.)

Soon he’s 23. He’s 23 and he’s working under Washington. He still writes and doesn’t sleep and when Washington puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “why don’t you take a break, son?” he very carefully doesn’t scream, doesn’t yell ‘I can’t why do none of you SEE that?”

Instead he turns and jokes, and puts Washington at ease. 

“I just have to finish this one thing, sir.”

He’s so good at lying he thinks he might have fooled himself. 

Except. He’s living on borrowed time and he knows it.

When Thomas Jefferson shows up, Alexander almost wants to kiss him. This man, he makes Alexander feel alive. The feeling he gets when he finally wins an argument, he thinks that’s what living feels like. 

He gets the feeling in other places too, of course.

Passionate whispering with John at three am. Lazy Sunday morning French with Lafayette. Movie nights with Hercules when someone makes a sarcastic comment (oh yeah, go into the haunted house that’s a good idea) and the couch dissolves into giggles. 

A feeling hits him full force one day. He’s bringing snacks back from the kitchen with Eliza, because it Peggy’s 18th birthday and she wanted a sleepover. He looks up for a minute and sees Angelica and Hercules reading a magazine together, John and Laf wresting over the tv remote, while Peggy carefully draws a sharpie mustache on one passed out Thomas Jefferson, his friend James Madison quietly laughing behind his hands, while Aaron Burr rolls his eyes at all of them. Oh.

He thinks this is what loving someone is like. 

For a single second, Alex thinks about telling them. About admitting the migraines and the fact that sometimes, he coughs and blood comes up. Thinks about having a friend there to help him when the fact that he’s dying and there’s nothing anyone can do gets so heavy and overwhelming for one person. 

Then Eliza bumps into him and the spell is broken. He takes the bowl of chips with a smile and a wink and goes to sit on the couch beside Hercules and Lafayette. This is fine. His family is here and smiling, he wants to cherish it. He’s 25. 

Alexander does cherish it.   
He cherishes the arguments with Burr, the way he can see Peggy growing to be her own person, choosing her own path. He cherishes going to Black lives matter protests with John and running away from the police. He cherishes helping Hercules when he needs someone to stand for his sowing. He cherishes watching Lafayette and Angelica team up to demolish Jefferson in a prank war. (Jefferson walked around with blue paint in his hair for three days before giving in. Alexander was almost impressed.) He cherishes growing closer to George and Martha, helping both of them around the house some days. 

Alexander continues to write and write until he finally has achieved more than most men in their entire lifetime. He lives and loves and is completely, truly, happy.

Alexander Hamilton dies on a Tuesday. He is 27 when the cancer that had been living with him for 10 years finally wins. He dies happy, knowing he was loved and loved in return. 

He had prepared for this. 

It is Lafayette who finds him, laying on the bathroom floor of their shared apartment. By the time he does, Alexander has been dead for several hours. 

After the funeral, each one of them is given a letter. They all contain the same thing.

____________

I’ve told all of you about the hurricane that hit my home town when I was 17. What I didn’t tell you at the time, however, was that the medical examination after the hurricane showed that I was living with a dangerous strand of cancer, which would kill me by the time I was 30. 

You all deserved to hear the explanation from me, but I’m a coward, I guess. 

I’m sorry.

Thank you all for giving me the best years of my life. I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. 

Love,

A.Ham.

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. I'm having an off day. Sorry?


End file.
